A Grimmauld House Moment
by yumelove
Summary: A Ron and Hermione one-shot before Harry's arrival at Grimmauld Place.


**A Grimmauld House moment**

"It's not _spew_, Ron! I've told you a thousand times!" yelled angry Hermione, glaring at her friend who was smirking annoyingly at her.

"Aren't you tired of all this thing?" he asked, now amazed at her stubbornness.

"No! House-elves need rights and until get them these, I won't have rest."

Ron rolled his eyes exasperated, knowing that her decision wasn't that easy to crumble. He has known her for five years and she was the most stubborn person after his mother. But that sometimes proved to be Hermione's best trait 'cause without her, Harry and him might've gotten into trouble more easily and more often.

"Hermione, do you think Harry's upset?" he asked as he was watching her knitting.

"Of course, I'd be." he answered with an obviously tone. "I mean, our letter aren't very satisfactory and his questions are still not answered. And, meanwhile, he's locked up with his lovely relatives." she continued, before Ron got a chance to reply to her. "Why? Wouldn't you be?" she asked, looking at him a little surprised.

"Of course I'd be." Ron answered immediately. "It's just that I wonder how he'll react when he'll see us." he muttered looking worried.

"There's nothing we can do. Dumbledore made us swear that we won't tell him anything through owl post and we must keep our promise." Hermione replied with a steady tone.

"But –"

"Look, Ron, I'm worried as you are, but we can't tell him anything. I wish we could though; he must be really frustrated." she said quickly, this time with a understanding tone.

Ron scowled at her, but he knew she was right. And she also knew that she was fretting without showing. Like he said, he had known her for five years and when Hermione was worried about something she had to do something – anything no matter what. And now she was knitting with all her might, though Ron couldn't define any shape to what she was trying to do. He leaped from the bed and got nearer to Hermione, looking closely at the wool thing she was knitting.

"It must be tough without magic, no?" he said watching as she struggled with the knitting needles. Hermione almost jumped when she heard Ron's voice; dropping her knitting tools.

"Ron!" she said pressing her palm on her chest. "At least, warn me first!" she added, getting to the floor to gather the tools. Ron followed quickly to help her.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to scare you." he said grabbing onto the same thing as her; touching briefly her hand. Both of them looked up and a slight pink got to Hermione's cheeks and Ron's ears.

"Sorry…" the red-haired boy mentioned again, retreating his hand embarrassed.

"It's okay." Hermione answered, looking as embarrassed as he was.

There was a sudden silence between them, the only noises were those downstairs of the Grimmauld Place and the ones made by Hermione's gathering.

"You know…" Ron began "you should ask Mom about knitting with magic. She makes sweaters every year on Christmas." he continued with a small grimace on his face.

"I already know. I talked with her and she told me what to do when I get to Hogwarts." she answered and quickly added: "Thanks for the thought, though." she smiled.

"You're really into this _spew_ thing, aren't you?" Ron asked, still amazed at her.

"Of course!" she replied fiercely. "House-elves are treated like slaves and their will is oppressed! It's not a normal thing, Ron!"

"Maybe it isn't for you, Hermione, but for them it is." replied Ron with a sigh. "You keep stubborn on things that are this way for centuries." he added looking a little exasperated.

"So what? This doesn't mean we have to relate forever to some stupid beliefs, doesn't it?" she retorted hastily and fired up again.

Ron couldn't help from admiring her passionate personality which burst occasionally on these kind of moments. He chuckled slowly and stood up. Hermione seemed offended and stood up so quickly that she lost her balance, tripped over her own feet, grabbed Ron of the collar and fell over him. With a loud thud, both of them remained still on the floor, feeling their bodies aching. Ron moaned as his hands grasped tight around Hermione's waist. Her bushy hair was tickling his face and a floral scent filled his nostrils. Soon, he could hear his loud heartbeats and felt his face growing brightly red. Finally, Hermione tried to lift herself up, her hands trembling. She had bruised them in the fall. They were still clutched onto Ron's collar. She lifted her head and looked up at Ron's face. Blushing, she opened her mouth to say something but ended up closing it without a word. Now, both of their heartbeats could be heard and their faces were a glowing red. They haven't been this close to each other and their reactions were quite surprising. Both of them felt confused, embarrassed and why not…aroused. Hermione could feel the warmth of Ron's body and his fingers burning through her blouse. His eyes were a captivating blue and felt as she was drowning in them. Soon, she felt her breath get heavy and saw that Ron's was the same. Also, his shampoo scent was engulfing her as a spell. But this couldn't go on forever and Hermione found herself saying:

"Er…could you please let…er…me go?" she asked him in a whisper as though it wasn't entirely her wish to be let go.

But Ron's reaction came instantaneously. He let go of her waist as though he has just realized what has been doing. Hermione lifted herself from him, a little disappointed and relieved. Ron started blabbering.

"Sorry…didn't' mean to…didn't know what I was doing…sorry…"

"Ron." said Hermione in an amused and exasperated voice. "It's okay. If you hand't grabbed me – er – tightly, I might have hurt myself. Therefore, thanks." she smiled at him, her cheeks still red.

Ron looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. Then with a shrugged movement, he muttered:

"No problem…"

As both of them stood up, Hermione kissed Ron on the cheeks. And without any word, she practically ran out of the room, leaving Ron shocked. As she closed the door, she leaned onto it and pressed her palm on her chest where she felt her heart beating fast. She closed her eyes for a minute and then reopened them with a large smile crossing over her face. _'I guess I just did it.' _she thought, feeling embarrassed and excited. Soon, Mrs. Weasley climbed the stairs and saw her standing near the door.

"Has something happened, dear?" she asked worried. "And where's Ron?"

"Ah!" she squeaked startled. "Nothing's happened. Ron's in the room." she continued blushing furiously. "Have you seen Ginny?" asked quickly so that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't ask any troublesome questions.

"Oh! Yeah, she was in your room. She said she was looking for something." Mrs. Weasley answered.

"Then, I'll go and help her." said Hermione, rushing downstairs and waking up Mrs. Black.

Sighing, Mrs. Weasley entered Ron's room to find him standing still exactly in the same spot as Hermione left him. Worried, she approached him and looked at him. He had the same blushing face as Hermione and his fingers kept touching absently a spot on his cheeks. His eyes were blue dreaming and sparkling. When Mrs. Weasley tapped him on the shoulder to ask him if he was okay, Ron jumped three meters up and screamed.

"Bloody hell!" he swore, looking at his mother who was rubbing her chest.

"Don't you use that language with me, Ronald Weasley!" she yelled at him, looking angry. "And for what were you standing still and dreamy?" she asked looking suspiciously.

"Nothing." Ron shrugged, looking away from his Mum.

"Did something happened between you and Hermione?" she asked and didn't need any further answer. Ron's cheeks blushed once again furiously and Mrs. Weasley left the subject aside.

"I've brought your washed clothes." she said briskly and glanced at her son. Sighing for herself, she left the room leaving Ron dreamy again. _'Good luck, kids.'_ she thought as she was closing the door.

Back in the room, Ron seated himself on the chair Hermione sat and said aloud:

"I guess she really did it."


End file.
